


Vigil

by Deannie



Series: Moments [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Community: hc_bingo, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 10:14:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5202035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deannie/pseuds/Deannie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her hands were shaking suddenly, and she let them, let her whole body shake as it needed to, to purge the fear and overcome it. The Hulk had been angry with her. With her specifically, which made sense. She’d been the one to bring Bruce back to the world, to expose him to this madness that was SHIELD. It stood to reason he’d want to go after her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vigil

**Author's Note:**

> For my hc_bingo, prompt: self-harm.

“I’ll take care of him.”

The medic looked at Natasha a little sideways, but handed her a portable kit and nodded to the man strapped to the bed in the corner. “If he wakes and is…” The young man didn’t finish the thought—mostly, Natasha thought, because he was rightfully in fear for his life at the anger in her eyes. “There’s haldol in there,” he said instead. “And some cold packs for your ankle.”

She just nodded. “Thank you.” The acknowledgement was also clearly a dismissal, and he wisely turned and headed out. She locked the door behind him and turned to gaze across the room.

“What have you done to yourself now, partner?” she asked. Clint was tied securely, arms and ankles, but she’d seen him slip better restraints than these. She walked forward and put a hand on his chest, taking a long moment to feel the too-rapid beat of his heart under her fingers.

“I’ll make it work,” she promised him quietly—a promise he’d made to her once in a locked room half a world away. “No matter what.” She slid her gun out of her holster and limped back to the bench by the window, setting the weapon on the sill within easy reach. He’d promised her then that he wouldn’t let her do any more damage. She aimed to return the favor now.

But first, she needed to take care of the details. Her ankle clearly wasn’t broken, but the joint and the entire foot were bruised and throbbing. The cold packs wouldn’t be a bad idea, though the painkillers were out of the question. If there was ever a time for her to keep her mind clear, it was now…

Phil was gone. Dead. And what she’d seen in Loki’s eyes during her interrogation told her the bastard had certainly enjoyed doing it. She’d enjoy returning the favor—just as soon as she got the chance.

She propped her leg up on the bench and slid her foot out of her boot, hissing as she stripped off the stocking beneath it and surveyed the damage. No, not broken, but it was all a very interesting collection of blacks and reds. She cursed her luck. If she hadn’t been trapped by that wreckage, she’d have been able to calm Banner, stop him from turning into…

Her hands were shaking suddenly, and she let them, let her whole body shake as it needed to, to purge the fear and overcome it. The Hulk had been angry with her. With _her_ specifically, which made sense. She’d been the one to bring Bruce back to the world, to expose him to this madness that was SHIELD. It stood to reason he’d want to go after her.

But the look in his eyes had been so terrified, as he turned. Her own fear finally drained away as she contemplated the reality she’d only really known theoretically before now. She’d seen the Hulk in action before, back at Culver University,* but she’d never met _Bruce Banner_. The dichotomy was almost painful. The lion and the mouse, the monster and the man. It would have been fascinating, but for the utter self-loathing that permeated Banner’s entire being.

She hadn’t been surprised at all to hear him admit to attempting suicide. She would have been surprised if he _hadn’t_ , honestly. He had to do something. To fix it. He was like Stark, really, in a strange, almost pathetic way. She looked up at Clint, who was starting to twitch, and smirked. Like her. Trying to wipe out the red in his ledger.

Natasha was sorry for him that he hadn’t managed the deed. He deserved to be able to rectify the situation in his own way. Now he was loose. He’d nearly destroyed the very people who were supposed to stop the coming war. He’d helped the god who aimed to start it.

“No.”

Clint’s tortured moan had her sliding her boot back on, zipping it ruthlessly over the swelling that had been allowed to proceed while it was unrestrained. Clint had helped Loki too, and she knew he wouldn’t let it go any more easily than Banner probably would.

“No!” Clint’s eyes snapped open, focused on her with alien eyes. But their glare was muted, confused, not the laser-sharp cunning he’d leveled at her as they fought. Still, she raised her pistol and leveled it at his head. She wasn’t fazed when he laughed. “You won’t kill me,” he said with certainty.

She cocked the weapon and didn’t blink. “You know I will,” she replied. “Same promise you made me.”

He did blink, processed the information, cocked his head. “Nat?” His eyes were suddenly blue—human blue. “What…” His fists tightened as he fought against the power in his mind. “God!”

Natasha sat back, sliding her sidearm onto the bench and engaging the safety. Wait. See. Fight it off and let yourself come out the other side. She’d be through it herself—had Clint sit vigil this exact same way.

Who sat vigil for Banner? she wondered. She ran a hand through her hair as Clint shook and fought. And did Banner ever really come out the other side?

“You’re going to be okay, Clint,” she murmured.

*******  
the end

**Author's Note:**

> * From _Nick Fury's Big Week_ , issue 3.


End file.
